“Harry! What are you doing here? I thought you had detention with Umbridge this morning!”

“I do, but if you think I’m going to miss the last Hogsmeade before winter holidays just so that toad can make me carve lines in my own hand you’re crazy!” Harry’s head spoke. The rest of his body was hidden beneath the invisibility cloak that he had used to sneak out of the castle in order to dodge his detention with the toad faced woman who the Ministry had appointed as this year’s DADA teacher. Umbridge was an older woman who liked to wear a lot of pink and pretend she was much younger than she was… and that all of the students at Hogwarts were as willfully ignorant as she herself.  

“Good on you mate,” Ron announced, clapping Harry on the back.

“No Ron, it’s not good. This is not good at all. Gryffindor is going to lose so many points we’re going to be in the negative, never mind losing the cup. And Harry is already in enough trouble because of the Daily Prophet as it is. He really doesn’t need to be antagonizing the rest of our Housemates any more than necessary.”

“I’m not worried about that right now. Besides if anyone tries to complain about my not showing up, I’ll just explain that I don’t much care for being mutilated. The lines have scarred into my hand Hermione. I’m not going to sit another detention with her ever again. I refuse. And if they want to take House points for that, well then, I’ll just have to cope with the disapproval I’ve had all year. It’s not like its any worse than it was in second year, or in fourth year. I’ve actually kind of gotten used to it at this point.”

“That’s not the point!” Hermione snapped.

Harry pushed his glasses higher up on his nose, his hand momentarily appearing out of thin air before disappearing once more. “I thought you wanted me to meet with some of the other kids around here to talk about forming a secret defense lessons group?”

“Yes I did, but I figured that was cancelled when Umbridge gave you detention. No one knows to meet up at the Hogshead to discuss the details.”

“Look there’s no point in worrying about it now. Harry’s already late for his detention. She’s going to be nasty to him no matter what happens now. So he can go back and be punished for being late, or he can stay here and be punished for being late. The hag is going to punish him no matter what, he might as well have some fun to make up for it,” Ron pointed out reasonably.

“Oh Harry you are going to be in so much trouble. You think she’s nasty at her regular made up detentions, just think how much worse she’s going to be at a justified one,” Hermione moaned. Hermione’s pressed her hands against her mouth, and she stared at him with troubled eyes. Obviously her worry about Harry was outweighing her disapproval of rule breaking.

Ron rolled his shoulder at Harry’s look. Obviously Harry was silently asking for a little backup against their more straight laced friend, but the red head didn’t have any more of an argument than the one he had already offered, but as far as he was concerned that made more sense than worrying about it when there was nothing to be done. Hermione had a lot of good qualities but one of her more frustrating ones was her need to appease the authority figures in her life, and there were times when she still fell into the ‘teachers can do no wrong’ mentality that she had cultivated as a child. What bothered Harry was that she did this despite repeated proof that several teachers, the DADA ones in particular, were proven to have been completely wrong.

Some were so far beyond wrong that they were downright evil. Umbridge had swiftly fallen into the latter category, although her brand of evil was more difficult to comprehend because it wasn’t the more straightforward ‘Harry must die so that I can take over the world’ variety that Voldemort and his followers adhered to. Nor was it the ‘maybe he’ll stop being a freak if we beat him enough’ variety employed by the Dursleys. In fact Harry wasn’t at all sure what to categorize her as beyond sadistic.

“Come on, let’s go. We can worry about the Toad later. Let’s have some fun now, and Harry can sort things out once we get back to the castle. I want to go to Honeydukes and stock up before Christmas. There’ll be candy around the house, but with the twins you can’t trust that they haven’t been tampered with.”

“You don’t like their Christmas canes?” Hermione smirked at him.

“Only being able to sing Christmas carols whenever you try to open your mouth to say something is not my idea of a good time. I had to write down anything I wanted to say to keep from singing. Sometimes I forgot, and then I had to beg my family to put me out my misery. After two weeks of that, I think they were tempted. So Zonkos is definitely on the list.”

“Right, I’ll be with you guys,” Harry grinned unrepentantly at Hermione.

“Oh Harry,” she sighed.

The girl rolled her eyes at Harry’s unwillingness to listen to reason, but she gave in without another word except to admonish him to make sure to step into Ron’s tracks so that no one see him walking in the snow.

The three friends made their way along, chatting quietly in a familiar pattern that would allow the three of them to carry on conversation as though it was just Ron and Hermione. Every once in a while one of Harry’s friends would mischievously lament the fact that Harry had to spend his Saturday morning with the evil Umbridge. Harry would stifle his snickers and choked laughs as best he could so that he wouldn’t be caught out by any of the other students in the crowd. And every once in a while one of the visible friends would have to cover for the jump they made when they were poked in the back, or tickled by invisible fingers.

When the trio went to the Three Broomsticks Ron went to the counter and got three butter beers and Harry sat beneath the table leaning companionably against Hermione’s legs and lightly arguing Quidditch with Ron. Honestly between Snape and Umbridge, Harry was in detention so much that this was the most relaxing day he’d had almost the entire year. In fact, considering that the days he wasn’t in detention he had to contend with the cool distrust of his house mates, this was the most relaxing day of his year so far. Right that second though, he was content to bask in the simple companionship of his friends away from the stresses of class and infighting with an entire student body. He could almost pretend that this was a normal Hogsmeade weekend… well as best anyone could pretend such a thing when they were curled up underneath a table.

The pleasant glow of his relaxed weekend was abruptly cut short when a loud shriek went up from the street outside the Three Broomsticks. His friends jumped up before the scream ended, and Harry was already scrambling out from his hidden spot. Another scream followed the first, and then another and another. Soon the entire village seemed to be filled with panicked cries. Only a single word could be made out above the noise.

Death Eaters.

The patrons in the Three Broomsticks began to dive beneath their tables. Several ran for the stairs. One guy jumped over the bar to hide behind it with Madam Rosmerta, not caring that he knocked over several glass bottles in the process. Come to that, the owners of the drinks didn’t seem to mind either as they soon joined the terrified man. There was something peculiar, Harry reflected, about the paranoia that gripped the entire human psyche at the thought of a perceived threat. Almost the second white masks appeared most of the adult wizards around turned into gibbering idiots.

“Let’s go, we’ve got to go help the other students.”

“We aren’t strong enough to take on fully trained Death Eaters,” Hermione protested, nerves mixed with her need to be reasonable in her features.

“But we can’t leave the other students alone, and the adults around here aren’t going to be any help.”

Hermione stilled at Harry’s logic and she gave a nod. Her body held all of the tension of a thoroughbred horse before a race, wide eyed nerves coupled with a sleek power waiting to be unleashed whatever the decision was. “So what should we do?”

“If we can make it to Honeydukes we can sneak back to Hogwarts and warn one of the teachers,” surprisingly, Ron was the voice of reason here. The expression on his face said that he was ready to do whatever needed to be done as well. His tall body was coiled, and his knees bent into a stance that put him on the balls of his feet, like a young lion waiting to pounce. His wand was in hand and trained on the door in case Death Eaters entered while they deliberated. Harry regarded his friends trying to assess the strengths and weakness of his both, and those of himself. Harry’s mind felt like it went a million directions at once as he considered the alternatives and the safety of the other people in Hogsmeade.

“Ok, ok. Ron, you’re the fastest runner. You sneak into Honeydukes and go get some teachers. I know Umbridge had the floo system closed on Ministry orders so have them open up the floo as soon as you get there. Hermione and I will cover you and then try to get as many students as possible in here. The minute the floo to the school gets opened we’ll start sending them through.”

“Harry you have the cloak. You can’t go out there and get seen by Death Eaters! You should go to Hogwarts to get the teachers,” Hermione hissed.

“No. My shields are stronger, and that’ll be necessary to protect the students out there. I’ll keep my cloak on. Don’t argue! Just go! Ron we’re covering you, so hurry!” Harry was already moving to the door.

Ron hesitated only briefly but he was slipping around the tables toward the door as well. He nearly collided with Harry, but the dark haired boy had been watching his approach and stepped out of the way in time to avoid being bowled over. Ron was running the second he stepped out the door. Harry dodged through the swinging doors behind him and pressed his back against the wall by the door. Hermione took up a post half hidden by the swinging doors, keeping a clear line of sight on Ron so she could be sure to see any spells aimed at him. This left her blind to her left but she was shielded by the wood, and Harry’s position allowed him to keep an eye on any threats approaching from that direction.

“Over here! Quick, get inside!” Hermione called to a couple of panicking Ravenclaw girls. It turned out there was a young Gryffindor huddled between them who resembled one of the girls, and had to be a younger brother. They caught sight of Hermione and started to run toward the Three Broomsticks, hands covering their heads. The trio safely made it inside, Hermione holding the door open wider so they could get in before she took up her post again. They ignored the sobbing, and fearful prayers that echoed around the room behind them.

Harry began to flick spells at the Death Eaters from where he stood. One Death Eater cast a spell at a small kid who was obviously separated from her parents, a red stream of light. Harry couldn’t hear what the spell was but he cast a quick protego to shield the crying child. Abuse of a summoning incantation later brought the child into his arms and he quickly shoved the kid through the door with a sharp order to hide. He heard Hermione cast throw a stunner at a Death Eater who was aiming his wand at Ron, and Harry spared a glance to be sure that was the only Death Eater who had noticed the red haired boy sprinting through the street. Ron ducked into Zonkos disregarded by everyone else in the fleeing crowd.

Harry turned his attention to the masked wizards. Something was wrong. They were using magic, but… strangely there were less spells than one would have expected to see in a magical battle. There were few flashes of light. Harry cast several more spells at the Death Eaters, and shielding spells as needed, but students kept dropping right and left. Somehow the Death Eaters had a way to bypass the magical shields Harry was throwing into the crowd. As Harry watched a Death Eater, apparently a woman flung a liquid into the face of a third year Hufflepuff, Derek something or other. He sank to the ground like a stone, wand falling from unmoving fingers.

Harry glanced over at Hermione to warn her about what he had just realized. He turned his head in time to see a Death Eater approaching from behind the door directly in Hermione’s blind spot. He raised his wand and cast without thinking.

“Expilliarmus!” the Death Eater’s wand went flying out of his hand and Hermione was alerted in time step forward to twist around the door to aim on the Death Eater. Unfortunately she wasn’t going to be able to bring her wand to bear in time to shield herself from the spray of what he now recognized as a potion.

In slow motion the liquid, green as the killing curse, arched through the air toward his best friend. He didn’t even feel himself moving, hadn’t realized he had moved until he felt fluid dripping down his chest. His robe was beginning to plaster to the front of his chest, but that really didn’t matter. What mattered was the way the world was whirling around his head, the way the door slammed into his back. He felt himself sinking toward the ground. He heard Hermione crying out a curse above his head, and in the distance there were several sudden pops.

‘Oh, good,’ Harry thought muzzily. ‘The teachers.’

Hands shook his shoulders. Hermione always worried so much about him. He wanted to tell her not to worry about him, it made him feel bad when she worried so much, but he was so tired and the ground was so…  

###

“What on earth was that foolish boy doing with you in Hogsmeade? He should have stayed in the castle! He should have been serving his detention!”

Severus Snape loomed over the two Gryffindors who had helped hold off the Death Eaters in Hogsmeade. There were over a hundred adults in the village at any given time, and a couple of fifth years were the only ones using their brains, not to mention their wands, against the Dark Lord’s followers. Of course Potter would be in Hogsmeade, against the rules, on the one Hogsmeade weekend that the Death Eaters had decided to invade the village. Of course he would jump right into the fray without a thought for his own safety no matter how much effort was put into keeping him safe. ‘Stupid, reckless, Gryffindor children!’ he seethed to himself.

Ronald Weasley paled, and what an unfortunate look it was on the brat with the way it made all of his freckles stand out in sharp relief, and dropped his eyes. If Harry had been where he was supposed to be, then a number of the other students would have died today. If Harry had stayed he’d end up getting all cut up by that stupid cow’s quill. He certainly wasn’t going to apologize for getting Harry away from her. He balled his fists and he clenched his teeth. Black eyes narrowed at the boy’s belligerent silence.

Snape decided to leave the youngest Weasley boy for the moment, the little witch was much more likely to respond to authority. Hermione Granger cringed beneath the wrathful visage of their Potion’s Professor, the second his dark gaze pinned her. She too dropped her eyes, but hers was a more submissive gesture. Hermione had known it was a bad idea. She should have known that not insisting that Harry go back to school would end in trouble. As a prefect it had been their responsibility to enforce the rules and now Harry was…

She gave a small sniffle, and blinked back the tears that were threatening to start again. The Death Eaters had been quickly fled or been captured as soon as the teachers got there but Hermione’s attention had been solely on Harry. Harry had fallen and he wouldn’t respond when she tried to shake him and call out to him. She wasn’t sure when her tears had started, terrified weeping and crying for help that had brought the teachers running. The girl was quite positive she had never cried so hard in her life as she had the second she had realized that Harry had stopped breathing.

“Now, now Severus, stop frightening the children. If the two of you could please explain what happened out there today we can perhaps figure out what to do about the situation.”

With an irritated huff Severus stalked away in a swirl of angry black robes to lean against the far wall behind the Headmaster’s desk.

“Please sir,” Hermione entreated the Headmaster Dumbledore. “What happened to Harry?”

Dumbledore was an older wizard with white hair and a flowing white beard to match. Pale blue eyes were hidden behind half moon spectacles, but his eyes lacked the twinkle that was typically present.

“I am afraid, Miss Granger, that young Harry is currently in a coma. Thanks to Severus’s quick thinking and the spells he chose, Harry began to breathe again, but I’m afraid he remains alive only because Severus wrapped him in a stasis spell. He will have to remain there until we figure out what is wrong with him. Pomfrey and some staff from St. Mungos are looking to all of the students who have been injured today. Now, the explanation if you please? It is quite imperative.”  

Ron and Hermione shared a look.

“Harry had detention with Umbridge this morning, but he skipped out on it,” Ron began.

“And of course the golden boy believes that he can get away with such behavior. I told you that arrogant little brat is given far too much leeway,” Severus cut in to sneer. It didn’t faze him at all the bristling looks he got from the children. In fact he was severely unimpressed even with the quelling look from the Headmaster.

“Severus, please,” Albus reprimanded the Potion Master before turning back to the children. “Go on.” 

“We talked to him about going back to the castle,” Hermione picked up the tale, “but he was already late and if he was going to be punished for being late, then he might as well not go at all.”

Ron cut in this time, “And we certainly weren’t going to encourage him to show up for any of the Toad’s awful detentions. He’d rather serve detention with Snape!”

The two adults shared a startled look at the mention of Umbridge’s ‘awful’ detentions before turning their attention back to the two teens.

“-fessor Snape, and do you even realize how insulting you made that sound?” Hermione fixed Ron with a disgusted look.

“‘Struth Harry said it himself didn’t he?”

What was going on in those detentions that would drive Harry to be willing to spend more time with Severus than be in the same room with the Ministry puppet? Considering the changes she was instigating, and the well known animosity between the Harry and Severus, this was an alarming thought indeed. Severus made a slight choking noise, and muttered something that sounded like, “And who would want his company that often?” Or he could have been talking about sizing him for a coffin; it was hard to tell from where they sat in the chairs in front of Dumbledore’s large desk.

With a sigh, Hermione continued. “We were in the Three Broomsticks when people started screaming about Death Eaters. So Harry told Ron to come get some teachers, and try to have the floo network opened. We covered Ron, and tried to get whoever we could into the Three Broomsticks. Then this Death Eater was trying to sneak up on me. Harry disarmed him, but he had some sort of potion that he tossed at me. Harry jumped in front of me, and that’s when he collapsed. It was like he was paralyzed by it. He seemed aware until about the time the teacher’s started showing up, but then he wouldn’t wake up, and then he… he…”

“He stopped breathing until I cast the spells that saved him. It sounds like a neurotoxin… A liquid you said?” Severus straightened up from where he was leaning. Without another word the Potion Master swept from the office, glancing at none of the other occupants as he passed.

“Does that mean he has an idea about what’s wrong with Harry?” Ron asked, staring at the closed door. Hermione brightened hopefully at the suggestion.

“A liquid. If it’s a potion then who better than a Potion Master to figure out what it was?” Hermione breathed, the implications settling in.

“What? He’s gonna be the one to save Harry?”

“Ron, Professor Snape is the best Potion Master in all of England and ranked in the top five in the entire Wizarding World. If anyone can figure out what Harry was hit by it’ll be him,” Hermione insisted.

“I don’t care what ranking he is, if he can save Harry then I promise to never call him an evil overgrown bat ever again,” Ron vowed fervently.

The aged wizard chuckled at them both. The two teens blushed as they remembered the presence of the Headmaster. He held out the bowl that had been sitting on the corner of his desk.

"Lemon sherbert?"

###

“Poppy! I need the shirt Potter was wearing when he was attacked, do you have it still? Oh and a sample of his blood!” Severus ordered, doors to the infirmary banging open behind him. “In fact get me as many samples as you can from as many of the victims as possible!”

“Severus, what is the meaning of this? This is a sick room not a Quidditch match, there's no need to go slamming things around. And I’ll thank you not to disturb the Healers who are busy!” Madam Poppy Pomfrey ordered right back at him.

“Don’t argue with me. Move! I’ll get it myself. Potter’s little friends said they saw the Death Eaters flinging a potion on the victims. Quickly, woman, I need samples so I can study it. Or do you want to leave your patients in comas forever?” the dark man snarled.

To her credit Poppy only hesitated for a second as her brain processed the information. A heartbeat later she was ordering samples from all of the patients. Soon Healers were bustling about each having heard Severus’s explanation. Severus himself joined in the retrieval process, his own medical experience coming in handy. It was a necessary part of training for potion mastery, and he also served as Pomfrey’s replacement when she became ill or was indisposed. Although in the fourteen years he had worked at Hogwarts that had only happened three times.

He cast a quick sanitation spell on his hands, his wand, and a glass vial. Fortunately it was a simple spell and could be performed wandlessly. Then a stasis spell around his hands. Shoved through the stasis spell already in place, it would merge with the spell that already existed without disrupting it and risking the failing of the initial spell or endangering the patient. It would be like his own hands were wrapped in gloves that were connected to the stasis spell so that no energy or foreign matter would introduced into he haven created by the bubble he was being held in.

Working quickly he made a small incision on the inside of Harry’s left arm, capturing the blood that escaped in the glass vial. He corked the vial, and held it in his free hand. An incantation sealed the small cut. A couple flicks of his wand and the front of Harry’s shirt was held between the pinky and ring finger of the hand holding the vial. As soon as Severus removed his hands from Harry’s bubble he cast yet another stasis spell around the shirt, knowing that more exposure to the air could further contaminate his samples.  A cart was soon compiled by the Madam Pomfrey and the Healers, and the Potion Master was quickly wheeling his cart down to the dungeons.

Typical Potter, rushing in without thinking, and when he bothered to think at all, it was to think he was above such petty things as rules. Severus’s lips drew into a sharp forbidding scowl that set even the Slytherins he passed on edge, and he barely even noticed the children fleeing and jumping out of his way as he stormed his way to his lab. Severus would heal the blasted boy if it was the last thing he did. The alternative was… His hands clenched around the cart handle until his knuckles were white.

"Honestly Albus I'm beginning to wonder if Lucius Malfoy hasn't a point about your fitness as Headmaster. There were deaths! Deaths!" Cornelius Fudge was a short plump wizard who had a fondness for pinstriped robes. He was also the Minister of Magic and he had to be dealt with. Such was the reason he was now standing in the office of Albus Dumbledore, rolling the rim of his small bowler hat anxiously between his fingers as he paced in front of the large wooden desk.

Albus walked slowly to his side of the desk and sank down heavily into his own chair. It was not often he felt the weight of his years as keenly as he did this day, but the fact of the matter was, several students had died, despite the magic that was employed to keep them alive until a cure was discovered. And now it was up to him to speak with the families of the children, to speak with the student body and inform them of the tragedy that has occurred. It was a tragedy that could have been prevented had Fudge simply accepted the truth of his words instead of wasting so much time trying to discredit the ones who were only interested in protecting the Wizarding World. The old wizard dearly hoped the bureaucrat before him felt the weight of every death his inaction had caused.

"How exactly would I have been able to better protect the student body from the attack? As I recall you refused my request for extra auror protection when I asked as Voldemort was not returned and the expense too difficult to justify."

"Never the less," Fudge announced in a fussy voice. He avoided the unforgiving blue eyes of the wizard before him. If there was a continuation of that thought it wasn't forthcoming. There was more nervous pacing. "This should never have occurred."

"Of course it never should have. And perhaps if we had been granted the aurors that had been requested it might not have. We train children to wield their magic so that they may become contributing members of society, not to be soldiers. They should never have had to experience that. And now it falls to us to make sure that they are able to deal with having had the experience." Bitterness tinged the hard words, he was not about to let the weak man forget his part in the events that transpired.

Despite knowing that the attack may have been averted had aurors been guarding the children, not all of responsibility for the rage and grief he felt could be laid at the feet of the man pacing in front of him. Certainly a great deal was, and some was even reserved for the reporters who had assisted Fudge in misleading the public. Despite that there was no one Dumbledore resented more at that moment than himself. He was the headmaster of the school and despite his power, despite his promises to protect the children in his care, he had failed. His failure was the reason seven children were dead, and nineteen more were at risk of dying should a cure not be discovered. He was the reason that the hope of the Wizarding World was now lying in the infirmary. And if hope was restored it wouldn't be at his hands, but at the hands of his most faithful.

"What are we going to tell them? The attack will have already made it to the Daily Prophet; we have to control this before it starts a panic."

"Why Cornelius, we tell them the truth."

"Albus I forbid you to announce it!"

"There was an attack on Hogsmeade by a group of Death Eaters. Several students and villagers were injured and remain in a magically maintained comatose state. Six villagers and three students were killed during the attack. Four more students have died since Healers have taken over their care. The Dark Mark has yet to fade from where it was cast over Hogsmeade. By tomorrow the Prophet will have exaggerated events beyond even what the Wizarding World is imagining already. If not the truth then what would you have me tell them?" Was the man still holding to the idea that if no one knows then it's not true? That refusal to believe in Voldemort's attack is what led to the attack, in the first place.

"Nothing! Tell them nothing! Dolores will handle it. Yes, yes she'll know what to say. You just let the Ministry handle this one Dumbledore."

Blue eyes were frozen and lips thinned behind flowing white beard and mustache. Fudge did not notice the step he took back from the cold displeasure radiating from the wizard who had defeated the last dark lord to rise to power in the Wizarding World. Then slowly, ever so slowly, that regal head tilted in acquiescence.

"I eagerly await her explanation." There was a moment so full of silence it was painful. And then, "I will announce her desire to speak on behalf of the Ministry at dinner in the Great Hall."

"Tonight? What, so soon?" Fudge protested in alarm. "That's only an hour away!"

"Whatever is said to them the telling cannot be left for long considering how many students witnessed the attack directly. Tonight is the latest it can be put off. Perhaps you would like to confer with Dolores regarding the facts that you wish to share, and to inform her that she will need to have her speech ready by then." As quickly as the chill that had permeated the office had appeared it was gone, leaving Fudge to wonder if he had imagined that the eyes in front of him had ever been anything but the warm twinkling blue that they were right that second.

"Oh, yes. I shall go speak with her right now then."

"One moment while I summon someone to show you to her office- Dobby! Ah yes Dobby, please escort the Minister Fudge to Professor Umbridge's office if you would please?"

"Dumbledore, I'm sure that's not-" Fudge stared at the strange creature who answered the wizard's summons. This was definitely not a normal house elf. He would only lay fifty percent odds in favor of the fact that it was a house elf at all if it came to that. The creature was wearing an overlarge green knit sweater with an H on the front. The sweater was tucked into the waist band of a pair of red and gold striped cotton boxers. Several pairs of socks adorned each foot, and one on each ear. Fudge squinted. Yes he was quite certain that there was a stack of tea cozies balanced on its head.

"Necessary? But Cornelius you haven't been to Dolores's office as yet and I would be quite remiss in simply pointing you out the door with instructions when I can offer you a guide. I would take you myself of course but I need to confer with the healers and begin to speak with the parents who have begun to arrive. Minerva has been handling that thus far but I fear that soon there will be too many worried parents for one person to deal with."

"But your elf is-" Creepy. Fashion challenged. Possibly crazy.

"Free and he has chosen to work for Hogwarts by his own volition. He has proven himself as loyal as any bound elf. Dobby, off you go. Make sure the Minister does not get lost on the way to Dolores Umbridge's office won't you?"

"Of course, Headmaster Dumbeldore sir! Dobby is to be taking Mister Minister of Magic Fudge to the Professor Umbridge's quarters, sir!" Dobby agreed bobbing into a bow. His tea cozies wobbled dangerously but he straightened up without managing to lose even one.

"A seat will be saved for you at the Head table. I will see you at dinner, Cornelius."

###

"Still here Severus?"

The Potion Master sprawled in a chair, staring at the double rows of students occupying the hospital ward of Hogwarts. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was slumped down so low that he was able to prop his chin on steepled fingers even as he propped his elbows on the arm rests of the seats. At the medi-witch's words he shook himself and pulled himself straight in the chair.

"Am I to take it by this display that the rest of the Healers have left for the evening?" Poppy smirked at the man who was now trying to pretend that he hadn't been caught in such an undignified position.

"Madam Pomfrey, how kind of you to grace your ward with your presence. Yes Healer Thompson was the last one to leave. Now that you are here, perhaps I can go back to my lab and get some actual work done."

"Actual work?" one graying brown eyebrow winged up ironically.

"Yes, you know. Making sure that idiot Slughorn hasn't felt the need to reorganize my potion stores by that hideously archaic method he favors, further research on the potion that was used to incapacitate our students, the like. Babysitting incompetent Healers is not a typical part of my job descriptions you realize," was the sardonic reply.

The medi-witch sighed, "He's just young."

Poppy ignored the disbelieving scowl her words earned her. She turned her attention to their patients. "It's good that we've been able to start a treatment plan for them."

"It's incomplete though."

"But you've at least managed to identify all of the ingredients of the potion they were attacked with," Poppy pointed out, allowing her gaze to travel over the still forms encased in soft blue bubbles of magical power.

The teachers who had arrived on the scene had cast the initial charms but they had to be renewed often and so the Healers from St. Mungo's frequently came into the infirmary to help strengthen the magic keeping these students alive, and to collect fresh samples to take back to the hospital so they could also help with identifying the potion that was used. They had needed several of them that day because Severus had come up with an antivenin for the neurotoxin, but they still weren't able to release the stasis charms. They had realized that when they had attempted to wake Anna Rosewood, a fifth year Ravenclaw, up. As soon as the charm was lifted to see if the potion had worked she had begun to convulse, and so they had immediately renewed the spells. Luckily they had been able to do so before she died.

"I've only managed to isolate the physical aspects of the poison and create a treatment for that. It'll keep their lungs from collapsing, but… You know stasis can only slow things down so we have time to work on a cure; it won't stop it from spreading. It took me far too long to identify the components."

"I've never heard of a potion that works the way this one seems to," Poppy crossed her arms beneath her chest. "How on earth did You-Know-Who come up with it?"

"As he has not seen fit to inform me, I must admit to being uncertain. We are running out of time Poppy. There is something we're missing here. Something about that combination of ingredients…"

"Severus, what you've done so far… that's more than any of the Healers from St. Mungo's or I can boast. You should get some sleep. You've barely slept for the past three days, and I know you didn't sleep at all for the two days prior. If you keep on like this you're going to be joining our patients," Poppy pointed out gently.

The school nurse had a fondness for the dour potion master after so many years of working with the prickly man. First treating him for injuries when he was a student and working to gain his mastery, then treating him for injuries when he was a spy. For the past fourteen years she had been working with him on keeping the healing potions for the school stocked and keeping him up to date on the latest medical advances, especially the ones that related to his own field. She felt closer to him than any other member of the staff, including Albus. Not that she hadn't spent a great deal of time with Albus over the years, particularly when Severus had been a boy. She had gone toe to toe with the headmaster over the way Severus was treated by Potter and Black. Not that her efforts made a whit of difference to the stubborn old goat, but Severus had always seemed grateful for her attempts.

He glanced over with a tired smile. The harsh lines of his face softened and the deep furrows around his mouth eased. He looked years younger than his normal demeanor revealed him to be. In fact he looked very near his actual age whenever he truly smiled. It was an unguarded moment that made Poppy feel oddly honored to be one of the few he trusted enough to let his guard down around. It was also an expression so rarely seen that Poppy catalogued it as another sign that he was about to collapse.

"You should go sleep," she said bluntly.

"There's this thing I'm missing. Perhaps I could think better if I slept but I'm afraid that if I don't figure it out now that I'll lose whatever it is," Severus leaned his head back against the back of his chair, and let his eyes fall closed, mouth pulling into a sharp grimace. There was nothing as frustrating as the feeling of missing something that should be glaringly obvious. Except perhaps attempting to teach potions to unreceptive and self absorbed students who persist in believing that every rule he sets down in class is for the sole purpose of sucking all of the joy out of their life since school law prohibits him from sucking out their blood. Ok, but the feeling of missing something that should be glaringly obvious was a very close second.

"While I can sympathize with your frustration the simple fact of the matter is you're not going to do anyone any good if you pass out from exhaustion. To your quarters right now young man."

"You won't be rid of me that easily," he answered with soft humor tugging at the edges of his words.

Poppy Pomfrey planted her hands on her hips and fixed him with her best 'you-will-not-mess-with-me-for-you-will-not-win' look.

"Severus Tobias Snape, so help me if you don't go to your room and go directly to sleep then I will put you to bed myself in one of the beds here. And you will stay in the bed until you've had a full eight hours of sleep, if I have to use a sticking charm and confiscate your wand to insure that you do so."

Black eyes blinked at her slowly. Then he quite helpfully pointed out, "A sticking charm wouldn't work on me. I can do wandless magic."

"Ha! We've seen the results of wandless magic done by exhausted witches and wizards before, my boy; you're unlikely to be willing to repeat their mistakes."

"I find it curious that you didn't threaten me with a sleep draught," Snape said, not quite a question. Poppy gave a quiet sigh."I'm out of sleep draughts. The children have been having a hard time sleeping since the attack. It'll be Monday before the seventh year potions class finishes their first batch."

"Ahhh, I see." Albus had managed to talk Horace Slughorn into taking over Severus's classes for this last week. The old man had been the potion teacher when Severus himself had been a student and he had agreed, after what was probably an interesting bribe on Albus's part, to stay as long as Severus was tied up with their current emergency. The upper classmen were now making batches of the basic healing potions that are running short in the infirmary. Severus's head turned until he was regarding the rows of beds.

"It's the tears," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"I could get around the rest of the ingredients and figure out what they're about. It's the tears in the potion that is so unusual. Phoenix tears, unicorn tears, and dragon tears as well. If it was just the unicorn tears and phoenix tears I would say it was a type of healing potion, but with the dragon tears…" There it was that niggling feeling. There was something about the dragon tears.

Severus sat up sharply.

"Poppy, has anyone checked the magical cores of the students?"

"Of course we have. They're all stable."

"Are they stable? …Or are they stationary?" Severus shoved himself to his feet. His fingers drummed a tattoo against the air as his mind raced over the possibilities. "Cast another scan, I need to see a core right now Poppy, if you please."

Startled by his sudden burst of energy and the way he launched himself from his chair to stalk toward the nearest bed, Poppy reared back for a second. Then she gathered herself and trotted quickly after until she stood at his side. A few passes with her wand that ended with a complicated twist at the end and then the scan revealed the glowing magical core of young Derek Long.

"You see, full and open. The light is clear there are no tatters or core damage. His core is whole and healthy," the medi-witch announced. And it was true. The white glow centered in his chest extended without interruption. She lowered her wand ready to release the spell, but Severus grabbed her wrist.

"Not yet, Poppy."

Minutes passed as they waited, the medi-witch not sure what they were waiting for. Then she frowned. The magical core pulsed like the heart, magic distributed throughout the body as routinely as blood pumped through the body. The boy's heart beat was slowed because of the magic shielding him, and so the pulses of the magical core would be slowed by the spell as well. But the light of his core wasn't pulsing. The light wasn't moving at all.

"Severus, what- how-?" Poppy couldn't complete the question. Her mind couldn't comprehend the situation well enough to know what she was trying to ask. It wasn't… This couldn't be what she thought was happening… There was no way…

"Sweet Merlin," she breathed.

"Quite," the potion master agreed. His voice was carefully blank, "It looks as though that potion wasn't simply meant to paralyze their bodies. It was meant to paralyze their magic."